Poem: Veitch the Peach

by Tim Armour

At RVH he’s Doctor Veitch.

His foe is carcinoma.

If tumours lurk within his reach

They’re dead or in a coma.

His master craft is medicine.

His field’s oncology,

Whereas my streak of Edison

Goes t’wards ontology.

An alchemist with alkaloids,

He’s toxins’ top technician.

This doctor’s worth a dozen Freuds

When faced with my condition.

An arsenal of antigens

He wields as therapeutics.

I’m focused with a different lens.

My field is hermeneutics.

Yet in my current circumstance

My flair for things semantic

Can offer naught t’wards my advance.

They’re useless and pedantic.

Enough of all this drama please.

“Once more into the breach.”

We’ve all got Swords of Damocles

But I’ve got Doctor Veitch.